It was certainly an interesting evening. After we'd finished with our, ahem, business, Mary went off to her room for the rest of the night. As much as we would've liked to spend the rest of the night together, we both knew that the possibility of having Grace see Mary come out of my room in the morning would be too much of a potential price to pay. And once Mary was gone, I found myself unable to sleep. Wandering about downstairs, I came across Richard's cigar staff and, figuring that he wouldn't mind a few missing, decided to head onto the roof and sort out my thoughts.

But once I was there, drink and cigar in hand, I couldn't even begin to sort out how I felt about what had just happened. The lovemaking was good. Better than good, in fact- it was absolutely sublime. That wasn't the issue, however. I'd told myself before Mary came on board that I wouldn't allow anything like this to happen. I'd told myself that the two of us would have a respectful working relationship, and that any sort of concerns like this were trifling.

After all, we were both mature adults, both able to remain professional despite our history together, right?

But now I realized just how naïve that idea had been. Of course, Mary and I would end up sleeping together once again. It was such a clear, easily-predictable sequence of events that I'd begun to wonder if it was secretly what I had wanted from the get-go.

Finishing my drink and cigar, I headed off to bed to try and get at least a few hours of sleep. I did, but it was restless, dreamless sleep. And when I awoke the next morning and checked my phone, I was greeted with two text messages that I would've rather not had to deal with first thing in the morning. The first was from Evelyn, and the second was from Richard Langford. Both had instructions to call them as soon as I was up.

Sitting up in bed, I decided that Evelyn was the problem I knew that I'd rather get out of the way soonest, so I dialed up her number.

"Enjoying New York?" she asked in a tone that I could've sworn was sultry.

"As much as one can when dealing with overseas jetlag," I said. "I got your text; something you wanted?"

"Well, something I wanted you to know, to be more precise."

"Oh?" I asked, unsure of where she was going with this.

"Yes," she said. "I wanted you to know that I'll be in New York this weekend."

The news hit me like a bullet, and any traces of fatigue were flushed from my body.

"What?" I asked, shooting up and out of bed. "What possible reason would you have to be in New York?"

"I have a client who I've been working with long-distance. I knew that you and Gracie would be in the city and I figured that this was the perfect time to come work with my client face-to-face."

Evelyn had some sort of job that involved her organizing this and that with various companies- like a freelance HR department. She could do her job wherever she liked, but was just happening to choose this period of time when I would be in the city to come visit a client. Something about this just didn't sit right.

"Well, great," I said, trying my best to hide my frustration. "Then what's your plan?"

"My plan is that I'll be in town in a few days; I'm thinking Thursday."

"Great," I said. "Then you'll be wanting to spend time with Gracie?"

"Well, sure," she said. "But I was thinking that you and I could have dinner that Friday. It's been ever so long since we've chatted."

"We're chatting now," I said.

"You know what I mean. I think it'd do us some good to catch up. What do you say? A little dinner for old time's sake?"

She had me over a barrel, as the Yanks say. If I said no, then I'd never hear the end of it when we'd have to coordinate for Grace. As much as I didn't want to do it, I knew that it was in Grace's best interests for her parents to be at least on speaking terms.

"Fine," I said. "We can meet on Friday."

"Excellent," she said, her voice carrying a tone of self-satisfaction. "I'll be in touch."

"Talk to you then."

"And Sam?"

"Yes?"

"I'll be looking forward to it."

Then the call ended.

I let out a long sigh. Why Evelyn was so keen on having a laugh together was beyond me; normally she liked to keep things between us as icy as possible. I couldn't help but wonder if my new assistant had something to do with this. But before I could spend too much time considering the matter, I pulled up Richard Langford's number in my phone and gave him a dial. After a few rings, he answered.

"There's my boy," said Richard, his voice as congenial and warm as always. "How's the city finding you?"

"Wonderfully," I said. "Got to take in a few of the sights last night, and now I'm more than ready to get down to business."

"Excellent," said Richard. "Glad to hear."

Then a pause settled over the conversation. I knew what this meant: Richard had something to tell me that he knew I wouldn't be happy to hear.

"One more little addendum to your time in New York," said Richard, his voice taking on a serious tone.

Oh boy, I thought.

"I know that I told you that you'd be on your own for this one, but during a meeting about upcoming projects, I noticed Junior's ears perk up when your assignment for New York was brought up."

My stomach tensed. Junior, as in "Richard Langford Junior," was the overeager son of the founder. He wasn't quite the businessman his father is, to put it lightly, but this didn't prevent him from thinking that the company was as good as his. I suppose when a man's last name is on the front of a building, his ego can start to get the better of him- regardless of whether or not he was the one responsible for getting the name there in the first place.

"I see," I said, wondering just what this meant for the project.

"Yes," said Richard. "And to put it bluntly, he insisted on taking a role in the project. Now, don't worry about having this mostly on your own; I told him that he could participate in a largely supervisory role, with you making the day-to-day decisions about how the expansion is going to be pulled off. But he's going to be rubber-stamping whatever you come up with."

"So," I said, not liking this development one bit. "Does that mean he's going to have final say?"

"I'm going to have final say," said Richard. "But, ah, just keep him in mind before you settle on any major decisions."

Richard was a savvy businessman, and ever the diplomat. I'd spoken with him about delicate matters in the past, and interpreting his conversations sometimes required one to, ah, count the stitches on a fastball, to borrow a Yank baseball metaphor. His words were often laden with meaning that one had to pick up on, and my skill in being able to know what was being said without being directly spoken was one of the reasons Richard was so keen on me.

And in this case, his meaning was clear as crystal. I'd be reporting to Richard, just as before, but now I had an extra assignment: assuage the ego of his son and convince him that he was, in fact, the real boss of the project. Without letting him know who was really in charge, of course.

"Very good," I said. "I suppose I can expect him later this weekend?"

"That's where you'd be wrong, my boy," said Richard. "Once Junior found out about the New York plan, he caught a red-eye to the States. You should be expecting him to call at any moment."

Great, I thought. One more thing to deal with.

"Certainly, Richard," I said.

"I know this is an…added complication, but I want to thank you in advance for the stellar job I know you'll do. Keep me posted, Samuel."

With that, he hung up.

I tossed the phone onto the bed as soon as the conversation was over, as if throwing away the bad news.

Damnit, I thought. As if this project wasn't difficult enough already; now I have to mollycoddle the boss's son on top of everything.

Then, as if on cue, the phone vibrated through the sheets. I snatched it up and saw that it was a text from Junior.

• Just got into town. Lunch at Gotham Bar and Grill at noon? Eager to hear what you've got for me. And do bring that lovely assistant of yours.

I sent him a reply, letting him know that this worked perfectly, of course. That done, I hopped in the shower and considered every complication that had just been foisted upon me in the last half-day. The most pressing one was that of Mary, of course. Last night was…quite something, but I knew that I needed to reassert our professional relationship. If that required being a little cold, then so be it. She'd have to learn one way or another that the job came before everything else.

Once dressed and ready, I headed downstairs and saw that Mary and Grace were at the kitchen table, finishing up breakfast and chatting about Grace's newest art ambitions.

"Good morning," said Mary in a tone that struck me as immediately too familiar.

"Morning," I said, my own tone crisp and cold. "We have a lunch with Richard Langford Junior at noon, and I have work for you to do before then."

"Sure," said Mary, her brow knitting slightly as she noticed my brusque delivery. "I was just chatting with Gracie about some of the cool stuff we saw yesterday."

"Papa," asked Grace, "is it hard to get your painting in a museum?"

"Not if you work very hard, my darling," I said, secretly a little proud of her burgeoning ambition.

"Mary," I said, returning to my cool tone as I poured a cup of coffee. "Please attend to the schedule for today and make adjustments for our lunch."

"Um, sure," she said, now keenly aware of my impersonal tone. "I'll get right on it."

With that, she cleared her and Grace's plates and headed upstairs to her workspace.

"Miss Mary is lovely," said Grace with a bright expression as she prepared to head off to her tutor's for the day.

"Indeed she is," I said. "But I have good news: your mum is coming into town later this week. Isn't that grand?"

"Sure," she said. "Oh, and Miss Mary said that there are so many museums in the city and that she'd take me to as many of them as I wanted!"

"Miss Mary is going to be very busy during our trips to town; work is first, darling."

"Oh, fine," said Grace.

Right then, the tutor showed up and with a kiss, I sent Gracie off. Now alone, I reflected on the brief exchange, knowing right now Mary was up in her office alone. Part of me wanted to march right up the stairs and ravish her, but I knew that just like I said, work is first. It would require a fine touch- if I were to be too cordial, then that would affect our working relationship. Too cold, on the other hand, and that would simply be unprofessional- not to mention likely provoke a conversation. I'd have to tread a fine line.

The first half of the day passed quickly, and soon the car arrived to pick up Mary and me. The drive over to lunch was silent, as I busied myself with going over information about the holdings companies in the city, trying to familiarize myself as best I could.

Eventually we arrived, stepping into the spacious, refined interior of Gotham Bar and Grill. White tablecloths and natural lighting were both in abundance, and judging from the clientele, it was a popular spot for powerful businessmen and women to meet and grab a bite while discussing business matters.

We didn't need to look far for Junior. Once we entered the restaurant, he rose from his table to greet us, his fleshy face in an overeager smile, his copper hair slicked back in a tight do.

Richard was all the boyish imitation of his father, with the gravity and calm of Senior replaced with overenthusiasm and forced gregariousness. Unlike his father, who remained trim into his senior years, Junior was soft around the middle, his spare tire straining against the fabric of his expensive suit.

"Sammy," he said, taking my hand in a too-firm shake. "Pleasure to see you here in the city."

"Likewise," I said, forcing a smile.

His eyes only hung on me for the briefest of moments, however. My hand still in his, he turned his attention to Mary, a smirk forming on his plump lips as he did.

"And here's the Harvard girl," he said, taking her hand in a grand, formal gesture, complete with a kiss on the top of her hand, that would've been more in-place at some medieval court. "A true pleasure to finally meet you."

"Thank you for your kind words," said Mary.

It hardly took a mind-reader to notice that she was a little surprised by the degree of enthusiasm he showed to see her.

"Come, come," he said, sitting down at the small round table he'd reserved. "Time to eat, drink, and be merry."

The waitress arrived and before I could even take a glance at the menu, Junior spoke up.

"Ah, three martinis –and keep the shaker on the ready for more. The men will have the filet –bloody rare, of course- and the lady will have, ah, the shrimp salad. You gals are always thinking about that waistline, yeah?"

I imagine he expected a chuckle from Mary and the waitress at this, but prim smiles were all he got. Mary shot me a glance as Junior's attention was latched onto the waitress's figure, but I kept my eyes ahead.

"Meat for the men, rabbit food for the lady," he said, chuckling at his own observation. "And martinis all around."

"I might have to keep it at one for lunch," I said. "Long day ahead."

"Same here," said Mary.

Junior swatted his hand through the air.

"Nonsense," he said. "A long day is all the more reason to get good and loaded during lunch."

I forced a smile.

Unfortunately for the rest of us, I thought, we don't have the luxury of being able to stumble drunkenly through the workday. Not all of us have our name to coast upon.

"Anyway," I said. "Are there matters about the job at hand that you're looking to discuss?"

"Oh, just odds and ends," he said before taking a long sip of his just-brought drink. "Mainly, I just wanted to let you know that I expect to be the final decision maker in this little operation. I don't want you putting anything into action without my say-so. However, I want you to know that I'm most amenable, so I'll likely not run a hard line on whatever you come up with. You are our star pupil after all."

There was much for me to take in with that little spiel. First of all, I knew right off from the get-go that his approval process was come up with in order to do one thing, and one thing only: to take credit for whatever I did. Junior had pulled such stunts before, and was even developing a bit of a reputation for it. See, if I had to come to him for final approval, it meant he'd be the one reporting to Richard, which itself meant that he'd be free to put his signature on everything. Luckily for me, I had a close enough relationship with Richard that I just might be able to circumvent this.

This brought me to the other aspect that I couldn't help but notice- his envy of my position in his father's eye. Junior, being the eldest son of the founder and in the business himself, naturally figured that he was being groomed to take over the company once Richard retired. However, he'd shown himself much less skilled than his father at business matters, and this hadn't gone unnoticed by Richard. Now, I'm not going to be so bold as to suggest that Richard had me in mind to succeed him one day –I'm sure that there are several others whom he was considering for that- but in Junior's eyes, I was an upstart who'd moved quickly through the ranks- too quickly. It was clear that Junior felt I was stealing attention that should rightfully be his.

"Very good," I said.

Then, he turned his attention to Mary. And I didn't like the way he looked at her, not one bit.

"And of course, I expect that all of your resources will also be at my disposal."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Mary beat me to the punch.

"Of course, Mr. Langford," she said. "Please let me know of whatever you need, and I'll be happy to help."

Junior flashed her one last lascivious smile.

"Very good," he said.

Now, I didn't know if Mary had picked up on what had happened or not, but she gave the right answer. However, I didn't like this one bit. In addition to his other less admirable traits, Junior was known to be a bit of a cad, to put it lightly. Rumors abounded, and most women in the company instructed to work with him viewed the assignment as a sentence of a sort; Richard was more than comfortable using his name to get whatever he wanted, you see.

"Now," he said. "Enough chat. Let's get on to more pleasant subjects."

The terms established, the lunch went on. When we were done and back in the car, Mary turned to me and spoke.

"He was an…interesting guy."

"Indeed," I said, maintaining my professional tone.

"I guess I'll be working with him while we're here."

"Yes," I said. "And he is the boss's son, so please keep that in mind."

My demeanor was having its effect. Mary picked up on my distance, opening her mouth to speak but thinking better of it. I didn't like having to be so icy to her, but it was the only way to keep things professional between the two of us. But as the ride went on, I found my heart singing a different tune. Thankfully, the ride ended before I could have a moment of weakness.

We walked back into the home and returned to our separate tasks. I knew I'd acted the right way, but at that moment all I could think about was the strange longing coiling through my heart.

This was going to be harder than it seemed.